


Pas De Deux

by bbygirldahyun



Category: TWICE (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe, F/F, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, ballerina!mina, pianist!dahyun
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-24
Updated: 2020-08-24
Packaged: 2021-03-06 23:22:58
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,524
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26087155
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bbygirldahyun/pseuds/bbygirldahyun
Summary: Mina is an up and coming ballerina, or at least she was. After an incident that kept her away from dancing for months, she's not entirely sure if she'll ever get back to where she was. That is, until she meets Dahyun.
Relationships: Kim Dahyun/Myoui Mina
Comments: 4
Kudos: 140
Collections: Twice Underrated Ships Ficfest





	Pas De Deux

**Author's Note:**

> wow we're finally here! i've been teasing a ballerina mina and pianist dahyun fic forever so i'm kind of glad to finally have it out into the world! this is a bit different to my normal writing style but i hope you'll enjoy regardless!
> 
> and please make sure to check out all the other wonderful fanfics in this collection!!

It’s been months since Mina’s had the courage to step in the dance studio. Everyday she’s longed to be there, but she just couldn’t face it, not wanting to see the disappointed faces of all her friends, people she respects, people who respect her, or at least used to. The studio used to feel like home, but now the thought of it makes anxiety build in her chest, as do her pointe shoes, which have been hidden in the back of her closet for months too. She wouldn’t even be here now if it wasn’t for the company owner calling her, asking if she has a free hour or so to pop in and just feel out what her next steps might be. 

“Bring your shoes, just in case,” The company owner had said over the phone. “But no pressure.” 

So that’s how Mina has come to be standing outside of the studio doors, stalling, pointe shoes clutched in her hands. It’s been so long, she almost feels like an outsider, which is half of why she hesitates. The other half is that ever present ball of worry, telling her she will never be where she was before, she will never be able to be a prima ballerina as she’s always dreamed. She couldn’t bear to hear that from anyone else, to let that thought become a reality. She hears it enough from herself, it’s all her mind tells her when she’s awake in the middle of the night fretting.

With a heavy sigh, she finally works up the courage to push the doors open, stepping inside the familiar walls of the company, peering around. Pictures of dancers adorn the wall, her own picture featured many times, a happier, carefree version of herself staring back at her. She almost doesn’t recognize herself, eyes fixated on a picture taken of her in her first big role, Odette in Swan Lake. She’s on pointe in a back attitude, arms outstretched, eyes fixed across the stage, beautiful white tutu glimmering. She had been ecstatic when the cast assignments had been released and she saw she was the lead - it had felt like the first step towards a real career as a ballerina, and her near flawless performances only cemented that confidence in her head. Now, all she feels is regret, staring almost longingly at the girl she used to be. 

“Long time no see,” The company owner, a short older woman, says from the doorway of the biggest studio room. “Nice to see you again.” 

“I’m sorry I haven’t come back yet,” Mina says quietly. “I’m just...I’m not ready.” 

“You’ve been saying that for months,” The owner murmurs. “Do you think you’ll ever be ready?” Mina can’t find an answer, the resounding ‘No’ in her head scaring her, making tears well up in her eyes. “Look at all these,” The owner gestures to the portraits of Mina, more of her than any other ballerina in the company. “You are meant to be on stage, you were born to be a ballerina.” 

“Thank you,” Mina whispers, wiping a tear away as subtly as possible. “It’s just not that easy.”   
A long sigh, and then, “Well will you at least come and observe the end of this class? We have a new accompanist, she’s incredible.” 

“Really?” Mina is surprised by that; they’d had the same older man playing piano and running the orchestra for performances for her entire time at the company, she can’t imagine anyone else doing it. 

“She’s freshly graduated from music school,” The owner explains. “She’s eager, she’s insanely talented, and she loves being here.” 

“That sounds amazing,” Mina finally smiles, though it’s a bit half hearted. “Alright, lead the way.” 

So they slip back into the largest studio, Mina shuffling to stand against the wall, eyes instantly falling to the group of young dancers doing floor work. “Close those rib cages ladies!” The owner calls, a familiar sound, one Mina thinks she herself has heard a million times. Soft piano music floats through the room, drawing Mina’s eyes to fix on the young new pianist in the corner at the piano, eyes not even on the keys as she plays, watching the dancers herself. Mina has learned a thing or two about piano in her time as a ballerina, and she knows it’s a testament to the girl’s talent that she can be watching something else while she plays classical, intricate arrangements. 

“How would you feel demonstrating something for the class?” The owner mutters to Mina, distracting her away from the intriguing accompanist and fully shoving her back into reality. 

“I haven’t danced in months,” Mina whispers back shakily. 

“You have muscle memory, I know that for certain.” Her tone is insistent, never one to take no for an answer. She’s used to bossing others around, hardly ever being told no. “You could do fouettes in your sleep, Mina. You don’t even have to go on pointe for them, if you don’t want to.” 

“Fine,” Mina caves, that part of her that loves dance longing to be back out on the floor, yearning for her days to once again be consumed entirely by ballet and classical music and endless combinations of moves she could do even if she was dead. 

“Everyone, take a small break for water!” The owner calls. “Stand against the wall and watch one of our aspiring prima ballerinas demonstrate the next movement we’ll be focusing on.”   
Nerves wash over Mina, everyone’s eyes on her now. This used to be normal for her, being used as an example for the class, especially for the younger dancers, to show them what they’re working for. But she’s rusty, she knows that, and that ever present fear that she’ll mess up is there, nagging at her. The mortification of failing, of falling, she can’t think of anything worse. But she agreed, so she forces herself out to the center of the studio, looking at herself in the mirror. This is wrong, she thinks; she looks nothing like a ballerina at all, in leggings and a tank top, hair in a low ponytail, no slippers or pointe shoes on. 

“Whenever you’re ready,” Mina hears, and then she takes her prep position, hearing the delicate piano music start back up behind her. She’s always been a turner, it’s her greatest strength, the one thing that impressed most at every audition and that ultimately landed her the parts she’s performed in. She tries to remember that as she starts turning, her body instinctually retaining its technique, spotting in the mirror as she whips around and around, the music roaring in her ears as she goes, until she finally pulls in to finish with two tight pirouettes and lands with precision. 

“Even in bare feet she is precise, you see?” The owner says with admiration. “Every movement is purposeful, and that is why you need to be training day in and day out, so you can all look like Mina one day.”

Mina didn’t think it would be such a rush to dance again, but it was. She misses it so badly, and it was almost too easy to fall back into it easily, but now that she’s no longer turning and everyone is staring at her, the anxiety comes flooding back and she gets hit with a wave of sickly nostalgia, of remembering how petrifying it feels to have every eye on you, waiting for just the slightest slip up or imperfection. With a shaky breath, Mina retreats back to the wall, crossing her arms protectively and fixing her gaze on the floor as the studio owner gathers the dancers up to give them a quick cool down and dismiss them from their class.

“Can I stay behind for a minute?” Mina asks quietly after all the dancers have left, the owner hanging in the doorway waiting for her. 

“Sure,” She can see the smile playing on the woman’s face. “Take your time.” 

Mina doesn’t quite know what she wants, but she finds herself lacing her pointe shoes up and walking over to the barre, letting herself fall into position and running through simple steps she doesn’t have to think much about, stretching muscles she hasn’t used in awhile. It feels freeing, in a way, to dance without pressure, without any prying eyes watching her. That feeling is what gives her the courage to move away from the barre and work her away across the floor, leaping and turning and letting her heart take her where she’s going just for a moment, instead of allowing her head to hold her back. It’s all fine, until she turns to do a tour jeté and steps wrong and the leap is lopsided in the air and she feels the shame coming back over her - that’s such an easy move, she never would’ve messed something like that up before.

Before she knows it, she’s crying right in the middle of the studio, face buried in her hands as she realizes how much harder it will be than she’d like to think about to get back to where she was.

“Your dancing was beautiful,” An unfamiliar voice startles Mina suddenly, making her shriek a little and whip around, even more embarrassment washing over her when she realizes the new pianist had been watching her the whole time and not only saw her mess up but had heard her crying like that. The petite girl stands with a sympathetic gaze on her face, sheet music tucked under her arm, obviously preparing to leave. 

“I didn’t realize you were still in here,” Mina whispers, sniffling a little as she tries to hurriedly dry her eyes and not look so hysterical.

“I took awhile to pack up,” The girl says almost sheepishly. “And you looked so pretty dancing I wanted to watch.” 

Mina’s cheeks are crimson, and she almost wonders if this girl is teasing her but she quickly brushes that thought away, seeing the sincerity written in every feature of her face. “I messed up,” She says plainly. 

“I wouldn’t have known if you didn’t tell me,” The pianist moves to step closer to Mina, trying to put on a reassuring smile. “You made everything look perfect.”

“You’re being sweet,” Mina sighs, shaking her head. “I can’t dance anymore.” 

“Yes you can, what are you talking about?” The disbelief on her face makes Mina hold her breath a little. “You just did. And you turned really well earlier too. It’s probably because there wasn’t music.” Then, she’s running back to the piano and rifling through her music until she finds one that satisfies her, putting it on the music stand and settling her fingers on the keys. “Try again, and I’ll play for you.” 

“You really don’t have to-” 

“Just dance, okay? No pressure.” 

Mina hesitates, positive now that she knows someone is watching she’ll mess up even worse. She’s tense, chewing her bottom lip nervously, but then she looks over her shoulder and sees the patience in the girl at the piano’s eyes, how she’s smiling softly, waiting until Mina’s ready. So, she takes a deep breath and gives a small nod, willing to try. If she has to fall, she thinks this girl wouldn’t judge her.

It’s like the minute she starts dancing the music starts with her, and it’s what carries her every movement. She listens to the piece the pianist picked, smiling to herself at how slow and pretty is. Every movement is languid, and Mina finds herself not fixating so much on the technique and just letting it breathe through her, letting her body make the decisions. It’s what her instructors have always said - once you get the technique ingrained in you, you don’t even have to focus on it anymore, and then you can let yourself emote through your dancing.

Without any kind of signal, Mina knows the piece is coming to an end, so she prepares herself and does a last turn section of pirouettes and ends very delicately, body trembling with adrenaline as she realizes she didn’t mess up a single step.

“See!” The pianist leaps up and runs over to her with a bright grin on her face. “You just needed music.” 

“That was…” Mina is downright speechless. Every time she’s done more than a few moves in the last several months she’s inevitably ended up stumbling somehow, but for some reason this time was different. 

“You have incredible musicality,” The girl compliments. “You knew where the piece was going without having to hear it.” 

Mina smiles suddenly, a little giddy. “Thank you,” She says breathlessly. “You’re really talented, I could tell watching you earlier.” 

A rosiness creeps up on the girl’s cheeks. “Thanks,” She sighs. 

“That was the first time in months I’ve been able to dance without a mistake,” Mina admits abruptly, needing to tell someone, even if it’s this stranger. 

“Really?” The shock makes Mina feel a little weird. “I see your pictures in the studio, you’ve had a lot of lead roles.” 

“Yeah, I...I did,” Mina feels tears welling up again. “I don’t think I’ll have another one, though.” 

“Don’t say that,” The girl scolds gently. “Whatever happened, you don’t have to tell me, but it’ll be okay. You just have to get back on your feet, like falling off a bike.” 

“‘Like falling off a bike’,” Mina chuckles a little. “I guess you’re right. I just...I can’t dance in front of people, not really. Doing those turns for the class made me nervous enough.”

“Well you danced in front of me just fine.” 

That makes Mina think for a moment, and then, “But you’re just...different.” 

A bright smile comes over the pianist’s face. “Anytime you want to practice with me playing, I’m happy to be there.” 

Mina feels genuinely touched, then, at such an offer. She was such a mess crying after she messed up and still, this girl stayed patient and understanding. “I feel bad I didn’t ask your name sooner.” 

“Oh, I forgot I hadn’t introduced myself! I’m Dahyun,” She extends a hand. 

Mina takes her hand easily. “I’m Mina.” 

“Oh I know,” Dahyun giggles. “Everyone here talks about you.” 

“Oh god,” Mina tenses a little, but Dahyun waves it away. 

“All good things,” She promises. “I’m here every night, so just let me know whenever you want to rehearse again.” 

“I will,” Mina smiles, turning to go. Right as she reaches the door, she turns and calls, “Dahyun?” Dahyun turns her way, halfway done putting her sheet music away. “Thank you, really. For everything.” 

~  
Mina wasn’t entirely sure if after her brief stint dancing again in the studio she would even want to go back, but the thought of Dahyun’s offer was nagging at the back of her mind every moment. Dancing had always been something stressful, the weight of perfection heavy on her shoulders as she worked towards her goal, but dancing with just Dahyun watching felt so different. Mina felt like she was in charge for once, like she could do whatever she wanted and there wouldn’t be at least ten critiques right after she finished. So, she stops back at the studio every night after all of the rehearsals are finished, Dahyun hanging back for her with a grin and new sheets of music, immediately chattering Mina’s ear off about what kind of pieces she’s picked to play.

“What’s that move called?” Dahyun asks one night while Mina is warming up at the barre, watching attentively while she quietly warms up on the piano herself. 

“Which one?” Mina turns to her other side, now facing Dahyun with an amused smile on her face. 

“The one where you bent your knee, like,” Dahyun stands up with a laugh, demonstrating as best as she can, making Mina giggle at her attempt. In their days rehearsing together, they’ve come to get to know one another somewhat, and Mina has come to really find herself endeared to Dahyun and her sweet personality. She is so bright, and her jokes and optimistic comments make it easier for Mina to relax and not feel so tense. All of her instructors have always been so strict, so serious, which she knows she needed to have the discipline of the art ingrained in her, but now what she needs is Dahyun’s endless positivity and their space free of judgement.

“Oh,” Mina smiles, doing the move again while Dahyun nods, affirming that’s the one. “It’s called a fondu.”

“I thought that was like when you melt chocolate,” Dahyun’s eyes crinkle at the corners while she laughs, and Mina doesn’t think she’s ever found something so endearing on someone else. Mina goes about finishing her warm up, Dahyun watching her fondly, her fingers moving over the piano keys in what must be a familiar rhythm for her, scales to warm herself up. 

“How can you play without watching?” Mina asks, truly curious, so intrigued by Dahyun’s talent and yet how down to earth she seems. 

“I don’t know, I just...do,” Dahyun answers softly, shrugging. “These are easy, I mean this is stuff kids learn.” 

“But you do it with the sheet music too, I watch,” Mina points out. 

“Sometimes it’s just...I don’t have to watch because I feel the music well enough, it just comes naturally,” Dahyun explains, and Mina nods along, knowing exactly what she means. The best performances she’s ever given while dancing were ones where she just let her thoughts go and the music took over, and she likes knowing Dahyun does the same thing with her playing. It makes her feel like they could connect through the music, like it’s a duet of some sorts even while Mina is dancing alone.

Mina moves out to the floor, doing a few sets of turns, smiling when she notices no music has started yet because Dahyun is busy watching her, hand in her chin and her eyes warm, like she’s mesmerized. It makes Mina feel somewhat bashful, but in a good way; she isn’t nervous as she usually would be under someone’s gaze that intense, because this is Dahyun, who despite her knowing Dahyun for only a short amount of time she trusts implicitly and values her patience and kindness.

“I got my first big gig as a pianist for a show,” Dahyun says suddenly, and Mina stops her turns to let Dahyun see the glee and excitement on her face.

“Wait, why didn’t you lead with that?” Mina asks incredulously. “That’s so exciting!” 

Dahyun’s cheeks go pink, and she lets her eyes drop to her lap. “I uh, I wanted to tell you because their lead ballerina just broke her ankle, and they don’t have any understudies.” Mina tenses a little, holding her breath as she waits for Dahyun to finish. “So they’re auditioning for a new lead this weekend.” 

“I…” Mina is speechless, she doesn’t know what to say or do. The idea that she could have a role after so long is so appealing, her instinct is to immediately say she’ll audition, but her breath catches, thinking of her last show, of that feeling of failure, and she shakes her head. “I can’t.” 

“Why not?” Dahyun waves her over, genuine concern all over her features. Mina sighs, sitting on the floor beside Dahyun’s stool at the piano so she can stretch and work on her splits while they talk. “This would be the perfect role for you, too, it’s Sleeping Beauty.” 

“I just…” Mina feels her throat constricting, tears coming up, and she takes a deep breath, not wanting to cry. “I’ll mess up, I know I will.” 

“If you mess up, you just get back up again,” Dahyun says softly, and Mina just shakes her head. “Mina?” Dahyun asks timidly. “Why haven’t you danced in so long?” 

The dreaded question. Mina considers for half a second getting up and leaving, because she does not want to talk about this. She hates remembering anything about that day, and she’d always been so grateful Dahyun didn’t pry about it. But, when she looks up, eyes welling up, and Dahyun is looking back at her with worry and sincerity in her eyes, Mina feels okay opening up, like Dahyun won’t judge her. 

“My last performance…” Mina starts in a shaky voice, hands coming up to cover her face for a second, until she feels a warm hand placed comfortingly on her shoulder, and she can’t help but smile to tell Dahyun she’s appreciative. “My last performance was supposed to be a very important one, there were agents in the audience and...and my parents flew in from Japan to see it.” Mina wipes away a tear slipping down her cheek. “I don’t know what happened, I just...I got to my solo part and right in the middle of the most complicated section I just blanked. I forgot everything.” 

“Oh gosh,” Dahyun gasps quietly, shaking her head a little. “I’m so sorry, Mina.” 

“I tried to keep going, cause that’s what they say to do, you know, m-make it up if you h-have to,” Mina’s getting worked up now, words caught in her throat, tears coming faster than she can wipe them away. “And so I went to do turns, because I knew I could always do turns right, but they were sloppy...I just fell right out of them.” She looks down at the floor, tears dripping off her cheeks. “I had such a bad panic attack backstage they h-had to have my understudy finish i-in my place.” 

She remembers it like it was yesterday, that crushing feeling once she got backstage, like the balance of everything in her life had turned upside down and nothing was right anymore, like she’d ruined her whole career with one single moment. She had been sobbing, barely making it into the wings before just busting up into hysterics, choking out to anyone who could hear her, “I messed up, I messed up!” One of the younger dancers had been the one to escort her back to the dressing rooms, holding her while she cried and assuring her it was okay, she would be okay. No matter what anyone said, Mina couldn’t calm down, to the point the director was nearing calling medical help for her because she was hyperventilating so badly. 

Her parents had been nothing but kind, even when she insisted she was horrible and they wasted their time coming to see her all they said was, “We’re happy to see you regardless.” Her mom had even suggested she move back to Japan to get away from everything, but Mina couldn’t do that. She’d made her life here, her career, she couldn’t abandon it so easily. Her parents stayed with her for a while after the incident, clearly very worried for her seeing as she would barely get out of bed, and she wouldn’t even consider going to the studio, her dance shoes shoved to the back of her closet. Dancing was the furthest thing from her mind then, she truly thought everything she’d ever wanted as a career was over, until she started dancing with Dahyun playing for her again. 

“You’re more than that one mistake, Mina,” Dahyun says, drawing Mina from her reverie. “How many perfect performances have you had?” Mina just looks up at her, eyes watery, but Dahyun looks at her expectantly like she expects a real answer. 

“A lot,” Mina whispers finally. 

“You are more than one bad performance, or one time you didn’t do everything perfectly,” Dahyun goes on earnestly. “You’re a person, you can mess up and fall and forget, that’s okay. It doesn’t outweigh all of the talent and skill and passion you have.” 

Mina sighs deeply, reaching and taking Dahyun’s hand. “Thank you,” She whispers in a choked up tone. “So much.” 

“It’s just the truth,” Dahyun smiles encouragingly. “Now, are you gonna come let me play for you on Saturday?” 

“You’ll be playing for the audition?” Mina asks tensely. 

“I’ll be playing for everything, audition, rehearsals, and all the performances. It’ll be just like being in the studio here,” Dahyun promises. 

“Okay,” Mina nods firmly, like she’s convincing herself. “Okay, I’ll do it.” 

Dahyun beams, squeezing Mina’s hand in her grasp encouragingly. 

~

Mina has come close to turning around and going home about five times before her number is finally called to go in and audition. Panic is rising everytime she thinks about dancing in front of so many people, but then she thinks of Dahyun, who is waiting for her just beyond the door, who she’s truly dancing for today. When her number is called, she takes a deep breath, following the other four dancers in her group into the large room, eyes immediately landing on Dahyun behind the keyboard, whose face lights up when she sees Mina. She waves a little, making Mina grin despite herself as she takes her place on the floor, pointe shoes already on. 

Suddenly, Mina becomes entirely too aware of the way everyone is looking her over, murmuring to each other in hushed tones. She was used to this once before, walking into every audition caused a stir because of her reputation as the up and coming prima ballerina. They used to be whispers of admiration, jealousy, and worry, and Mina has to admit it was quite the experience to watch other dancers begin to fumble because of her simply auditioning for the same role as them. Now, though, the whispers are different. Her reputation is different now, they’re all looking at her like they saw a ghost, and she knows it’s because of her slip up at her last performance. Everyone thought that would be it for her, that she was done, and so it’s certainly quite the shock to see her auditioning now.

Mina shifts uncomfortably, hating the eyes staring her down. It makes her stomach turn in nervousness, and she wants to run. She can’t do this, how could she think she was ready to do this? She should just apologize and leave, not put anyone through this. But then she looks at Dahyun, focused on the sheet music in front of her, rifling through to get to the right page, and Mina hesitates. She promised Dahyun she would do this, she can’t go back on her word. If she can just pretend she’s in the studio with Dahyun, like they always are, maybe she can get through this. If she just closes her eyes, it’ll be like things always are.

“Number thirty seven,” The man directing the audition calls, and Mina can tell despite him referring to her by her audition number he knows who she is. He’s watching her intently, curiosity on his face, like he’s intrigued by what she’ll do. “Are you ready to go?” 

“Yes sir,” Mina says, nodding firmly, trying to convince herself too. 

“Take the floor whenever you’re ready,” He goes on. “This audition will be a little different than your usual ones, we would like to see each one of you perform a solo floor combination. It can be a piece you’ve performed in the past, just make sure it’s something that showcases all of your strengths.” 

Mina nods again, taking a deep breath and standing in the center of the floor. She has no idea what she’s going to do, thinking of maybe focusing on her turns to show off her strengths, to let Dahyun’s music take her where it goes as she does when they practice alone. But as soon as Dahyun starts playing and the man running the audition counts off, Mina feels compelled to do the solo section she forgot during her last performance. She had done it so many times, over and over in rehearsals, the complexities of it making her focus on it the most in her practice. She wants to redeem herself, she wants to prove to herself she knows it, she won’t mess up like last time. She will not forget. 

So she lets her eyes fall close, starting the combination, up on pointe as she does the intricate footwork. Dahyun’s piano playing meets her ears, and it feels encouraging, like Dahyun is there beside her in a way, holding her hand through this. Mina turns, having to open her eyes to spot so she won’t fall out of them, fixing right on Dahyun as she does her complicated turn section, and she sees Dahyun looking back at her, pride written all over her face as she continues to play. The part Mina forgot last time is approaching, and Mina feels the panic rising, but just as she starts to truly get in her own head Dahyun mouths, “You’ve got this.” 

Mina knows that even if she doesn’t have faith in herself, Dahyun has faith in her. And that’s enough, to let Mina relax into the first move of the part she forgot, making sure every inch of her technique is perfect, and it feels victorious to do this right, how it’s supposed to be, and she can’t help the smile spreading on her face, her dancing moving along with every note Dahyun plays, every time the music rises in volume her moves become bigger and more pronounced, when the piano notes become soft her movements become small and precise. It’s like speaking without words, a constant conversation between herself and Dahyun and she never wants to stop. 

“And, finish,” The audition director calls, Mina ending in an arabesque on pointe, the room erupting into applause. Her cheeks heat, and she feels shy under all of the attention, but she feels proud of herself too. “Thank you, number thirty seven, you are dismissed.” 

Mina nods, saying a breathless “Thank you,” before shaking the audition director’s hand, years of audition politeness returning to the forefront of her mind. It’s such a rush as she heads out the door, wishing she and Dahyun could talk now, maybe go do something to celebrate, but that’ll have to wait until later. Right now, all she can do is get home and wait to see if she gets the role. 

~

Mina is in the middle of a rehearsal with Dahyun when her phone starts ringing. She apologizes to Dahyun, hurrying to go get her phone from her bag, seeing a number she doesn’t recognize and picking up hopefully. She doesn’t want to get her hopes up, she knows she’s probably rusty and shouldn’t expect such a huge role her first audition back. Dahyun is up and rushing over to her side as Mina says into the receiver, “Hello?” 

“Is this Myoui Mina?” An unfamiliar voice says through the phone, and Mina feels excitement course through her. 

“Yes this is she,” Mina whispers, holding her breath, reaching to squeeze Dahyun’s hand tightly in anticipation. 

It feels like forever in silence, Mina starting to think something is wrong with the phone, until finally she hears, “Thank you for auditioning for the role, we are happy to welcome you to the cast as Aurora.” 

Mina can’t even believe she’s hearing right, eyes going wide, mouth agape, hands trembling as she holds the phone to her ear. “I...thank you, so so much.” 

“Rehearsals start on Monday, we’re excited to see you there!” 

Mina feels arms wrapping around her, Dahyun hugging her tightly and excitedly cheering, “You did it! You did it, Mina!” She swings Mina around happily, making her laugh and cry at the same time, so thrilled and happy. “I’m so proud of you!” 

They pull back to look at each other, beaming brightly, and Mina just feels tears of joy and relief down her cheeks. “I never thought I’d get a role like this again.” 

“You did so well,” Dahyun reaches to cup Mina’s cheeks, looking her in the eyes, a warm feeling coming over Mina at Dahyun’s insistence. “I can’t wait to watch you dance on stage.” 

“I can’t wait to hear you play,” Mina replies easily, thinking of how wonderful it’ll be to have Dahyun’s music with her while she’s performing. It’s a tender moment, eyes locked, Dahyun’s warm hands cupping her cheeks and her gaze so full of love. “I’m so happy I could kiss you,” Mina jokes, making Dahyun gasp a little and her eyes go wide. “Oh my god, I’m sorry that was...I didn’t…” 

Dahyun giggles, pointing to her cheek. “Here, I’ll take a kiss on the cheek.” 

Mina can hear the teasing lilt to her voice, but nonetheless she leans and presses a delicate kiss to Dahyun’s rosy cheek, smiling when Dahyun leans into it. 

~

When Mina gets home that night, she knows she should call her parents and tell them she’s finally going to be getting back to dancing, but there’s a part of her that hesitates. What if she tells them and then her first day of rehearsals she chokes and loses the role? What if they’re mad knowing how long she waited to audition again? She spends just about the whole evening agonizing over it before finally caving, calling her mom when a flash of courage hits her, though by the time the phone is ringing she’s considering hanging up and lying and saying she called on accident. 

“Hi honey!” Her mom picks up quickly. “Is everything alright?” 

“Yeah, um...everything’s really good, actually,” Mina says, chewing on her thumbnail nervously. “I have news.” 

“News?” Her mom asks, sounding a bit hopeful. “Good news, I assume.” 

“Yes, good news,” Mina chuckles nervously. “I uh, I auditioned for something this past weekend.” 

“Oh sweetheart, I’m so proud of you,” Her mom sounds downright choked up, and Mina hates remembering just how she worried her mother right after the incident. Her parents truly thought she would never get back to some semblance of normal, and so she knows it must be a huge relief even hearing she auditioned at all again. “Even if you don’t get the role, it’s still a huge accomplishment you went and-” 

“I got the role,” Mina whispers, not meaning to cut her mom off but needing her to know. “It’s a big one, too.” 

“Oh gosh, Mina,” Her mom is definitely crying now. “That’s wonderful, I’m so happy for you!” Mina smiles hearing her mom excited. “What got you back dancing? What changed?” 

“The studio has a new accompanist, and she’s...she was really understanding and patient with me, she helped me rehearse,” Mina thinks fondly of Dahyun, who has quickly become a close friend, her favorite person to be around. “She’s the pianist for the show, and she encouraged me to audition.” 

“That’s good, that’s really good,” Her mom sighs happily. “Let us know when the dates for the show are, we’ll book a flight to come see you.” 

“Oh god mom, you don’t have to-”

“Stop that, Mina, of course we’re coming to see you! I wouldn’t miss seeing my little girl dance for the world.” 

Mina feels tears welling up at the pride in her mom’s voice. “Thank you, mom, for everything.” 

“We love you, honey,” Her mom reminds her. “And we’ll support you no matter what.” 

“I love you guys,” Mina whispers in a choked up voice. “I’ll see you soon.” 

~  
Her first day at full cast rehearsals is daunting. She hasn’t danced around so many people in months, and seeing all of the dancers warming up, obviously already acquainted with each other given they’ve had practices going for a while already, Mina feels out of place. She stretches on the stage, sitting in her right split and glancing around, thinking what a sick turn of fate it is that this production is being held at the same theater as the last one she was in, this stage the same one she forgot on. She feels a little sick, looking out at the empty theater seats and remembering how it felt to see all those faces, hundreds of people watching her finally crack under the pressure. 

Since she joined the ballet company she’s with now, she’s always been the star, which is something she takes a great amount of pride in. She works for her success, and she never lets the praise go to her head, always trying to strive for the next best thing rather than letting her ego get too big from what she’s already accomplished. She’s heard all of her instructors discuss her, many of her teachers warning the company owner that if she kept pushing Mina the way she was, Mina was going to burn out. She’d never wanted to believe until it actually happened; she’d seen it happen to so many dancers, getting to the top of their game and just crumbling under the pressure, burnt out after so many years of constant work and striving to be better. She always vowed she was never going to let that be her, she’d work and work and not let herself slip, but that’s nearly impossible, she came to realize. 

It was like she’d let everyone down, especially her company owner, who truly believed she would be the one to never crack, to never show any weakness. No matter how many times she’d assured Mina she wasn’t disappointed, it was only natural for her to make a mistake now and then, Mina could see the way her company owner felt in her face, how she felt almost betrayed by Mina proving everyone else right. 

“Let’s start with getting Mina up to speed,” The show director comes scurrying onto the stage, walking right over to Mina to introduce herself. “We’ve been rehearsing for a few weeks already, so we’ll spend today helping you learn your parts.” 

“Okay,” Mina nods with a tense breath, getting up and following the show director out to the middle of the stage. 

“All I ask of you is that you don’t break anything,” The director jokes. “We can’t find another replacement, we don’t have time.” 

Mina feels at ease with the director’s easy going nature. “I won’t, promise.” 

Picking up the choreography isn’t terribly hard, Mina following the moves, easily doing the leg extensions and the back attitude turns, things she’s been trained well on. As she goes on with the moves, she tries to picture it being a performance, trying to pretend people are already watching and trying to keep that confidence, face set in determination as she does pirouettes and lands delicately. Every practice should be just as good as the performance, Mina has heard that nearly a million times, and she keeps that in mind as she dances, trying to show that she can take choreography she just learned and perform it as if she’s known it for weeks. 

“Very graceful,” The director remarks. “You pick up choreography fast.” 

“I try my best,” Mina says in a hushed voice. “I don’t want to put you guys behind.”

“I know this must be a lot of pressure, to learn all of this in two weeks,” The words make nervousness settle in Mina’s bones, reminding her just how little time she has to get this down pat. “So anything we can help you with, let us know.” 

“Thank you, it’s much appreciated,” Mina smiles tensely, glancing behind the director to see Dahyun in the orchestra pit, chatting with one of the violin players, looking so at ease and in her element. Mina wishes she could have the kind of confidence Dahyun has in her ability; she’s such a quiet confidence, not boastful, but entirely aware of her skills and talents enough to rely on them without hesitation. 

“And please, feel free to get acquainted with the other dancers and the crew.” 

Mina is happy to hear that, eagerly taking the opportunity to zip down the stage steps and into the pit, catching Dahyun’s attention. The pianist brightens upon seeing Mina, grinning and practically skipping over to her side. “How’s your first day going?” Dahyun asks. 

“Stressful,” Mina laughs a little. “But good. I’m just scared I won’t be able to learn all of this in two weeks.” 

“I know you can do it,” Dahyun says earnestly, beaming. “You’re already looking really good up there.” 

“You were watching me?” Mina feels her cheeks heating a bit in bashfulness. 

“Of course I was,” Dahyun’s eyes smile with her mouth, then. “Nobody could watch anything but you when you’re dancing.” 

The words stick with Mina for the rest of rehearsal, her eyes always fixated on Dahyun, catching her staring back, and they exchange smiles while Mina moves across the stage. Even when she’s rehearsing partner work, the guy playing the Prince lifting her or them turning together it’s Dahyun she’s watching, heart warm everytime she remembers how much Dahyun believes in her, how much she wants Mina to succeed. It feels like she’s dancing for Dahyun, like she’s the only one watching even when many eyes are on her, and it helps her push down the nerves and dance through, to perform for Dahyun’s eager and forgiving eyes, for the girl who couldn’t care less if Mina messes up, who just wants to see her happy. 

It really becomes apparent how if it wasn’t for Dahyun, Mina isn’t sure she ever would’ve gotten back to dancing at all. All of this is because Dahyun showed her that she can mess up and still be good, because Dahyun gave her a safe space to fall and not feel stupid, to cry and be reassured. Mina couldn’t imagine dancing for anyone but Dahyun, couldn’t fathom that dancing would be as enjoyable if it wasn’t for Dahyun’s beautiful music being the soundtrack, the true partner in every move she makes.

“You wanna do something?” Dahyun’s voice startles Mina out of her thought process as she’s packing up her bag after practice. She’s sore and sweaty, not used to these long hours anymore, but it feels good. She feels accomplished, like she’s actually doing something she enjoys after so long just staying in bed depressed. She turns, pointe shoes still in hand, ribbons delicately wrapped around them. 

A smile plays on her face. “Do something?” 

“Yeah,” Dahyun laughs almost nervously. “There’s a coffee shop down the street, we could sit and chat if you want.” 

Mina isn’t totally sure what Dahyun’s intentions are - her first thought is ‘Is this a date?’ but she quickly brushes that away. Dahyun doesn’t like her like that, why would she? She’s probably just being nice, wanting to make sure Mina’s first day went well. “Yeah, that sounds great,” Mina answers pleasantly, and Dahyun’s lips turn up in a bright grin. 

They walk side by side to the coffee shop just a block down from the theater, Dahyun eagerly running to hold the door open for Mina and usher her inside. “What do you want?” Dahyun asks, peering up at the menu. 

“I don’t know,” Mina gives her a side eye look. “You’re not paying for me.” 

“I wanna treat you!” Dahyun shoots her a playful glare. “Your first day back at a big practice deserves celebration, so let me buy you a coffee.” 

Mina sighs deeply, but eventually she caves, much to Dahyun’s glee. “I’m treating you next time,” She insists as they sit down with their drinks, a table by the window, watching cars zoom by and people strolling on the sidewalk. 

“As long as there’s a next time,” Dahyun remarks, sipping from her hot chocolate, making Mina giggle when she has a little whip cream on her top lip. 

“You’ve got…” She laughs, reaching with her thumb to wipe it away, making Dahyun jump a little and her eyes go wide. “Whip cream on your lip.” 

“Oh god,” Dahyun goes red, hiding her face as she laughs. “Anyways, uh, how was practice for you?” 

“Tiring,” Mina chuckles. “I’m really sore.” 

“Oh yeah, that must be hard,” Dahyun frowns a little. “Take it easy tonight and get a lot of rest, okay?” 

“You too, gotta rest your instrument,” Mina teases, picking up Dahyun’s small hand and toying with her fingers. “Do your fingers ever cramp up during a performance?” 

“Occasionally,” Dahyun sighs. “If it’s a really long one, sometimes my fingers will start to cramp. It hurts but I just try to keep playing.” 

Mina rests her chin in her hand, listening intently as Dahyun goes on to talk about a time her fingers did cramp during a performance, a fond smile on her face. Dahyun rambles, as she tends to do, but Mina never minds. She loves hearing Dahyun chatter away, it makes her feel happy that Dahyun is willing to share even silly little stories like this with her. It’s been so long since she had a true, deep friendship like this, given the competitive nature of ballet it was hard for Mina to ever truly befriend and feel close to any other dancer. It was always a constant competition no matter what, but this is a genuine love and care for another Mina feels beyond lucky to have.

~

Mina can’t stop running her hands over the tulle of her tutu, smiling every time she looks in the mirror, finally seeing the ballerina she once was in herself again. Despite all her anxiety and worrying, she feels like herself again, always having felt most at home in her pointe shoes and a tutu, and this one is stunning. A very delicate pink color with gold shimmering on it, Mina can’t help but twirl around in her dressing room to see it glitter at every angle. She’s excited, downright ecstatic, at the prospect that in a mere ten minutes she’ll be back on the stage for the first time in months. 

However, that’s not to say she isn’t also terrified. Every course excitement brings an equally strong current of panic, her brain telling her she can’t do this, she’s going to mess up just like last time. It feels so reminiscent of last time, knowing her parents are in the audience, how many people are here, the very same theater and stage as well. But this time will be different, it has to be. Mina cannot allow herself to ruin all of the progress she’s made in these last few weeks, she will not let her own anxiety take this opportunity for redemption from her. 

“Five minutes!” The stage manager shouts, and Mina has to take one last deep breath before hurrying out of the dressing room and up to the wings, immediately feeling sick upon glancing out and seeing the sheer amount of people waiting. 

“Fuck,” She mutters under her breath, shaking her head, biting down hard on her lip. She can’t do this, she doesn’t think she can even get out on the stage. The mere prospect of forgetting again is enough to make her want to just go curl up in a ball and hide somewhere, back out, not let anyone see her crumble again. 

But before she can make a rash decision, she spots Dahyun in the pit, her head tipped down as she’s clearly reviewing her sheet music, and Mina’s heart settles a bit. This time is different, she won’t be alone, she’ll have Dahyun guiding her. She can do this, so long as Dahyun is with her she can do it. She can do anything with Dahyun watching her. So she forces herself to take a long, deep breath, pushing her shoulders down, letting herself remember how long she’s worked for this, how much she’s pushed herself to get here, and how she has all of the skills and more to do this. She can do this. 

The sound of the violins and cellos warming up in unison, accompanied by Dahyun’s soft ringing of a piano note tells Mina she needs to get in position to start, standing in the front most wing of stage right, feet positioned in a relaxed tendu. The music starts, Mina watching as everyone enters on their cue, finding herself smiling when she finally gets to enter the stage, applause roaring in her ears the second she’s in sight. 

As the show goes on, Mina realizes how much stronger of a dancer she has become. She has not only physical strength but the mental resilience to push on past her fears, her self doubt, and her guilt over waiting so long. Everytime she dances with Dahyun’s soft piano to guide her, she isn’t alone. Even in her solo parts, she knows she’s still dancing a duet, a constant pas de deux with Dahyun as her partner, the music carrying her through every turn, lifting her through every leap. It feels intimate in the best way, to connect through the delicate piano music and to dance and play for one another as they have so many times. The eyes watching don’t matter, the only thing that matters is moving with every note, Mina’s eyes on Dahyun only, and Dahyun peering up at her now and then, eyes full of love and admiration. 

With Dahyun watching her, playing for her, Mina couldn’t forget if she tried. 

It seems in a blink the performance is over, Mina standing on stage and beaming as everyone cheers, her castmates reaching to take her hands so they can all bow together, waving as the curtain closes and they all finally relax, giddily rushing to the dressing rooms to change into other shoes and then go to find their families and greet the crowd. Mina has barely made it back to her dressing before she’s startled by a few knocks on the door, confusion melting away into a smile when she pulls the door open and Dahyun is standing there with a bouquet of roses in hand. 

“Congratulations!” Dahyun cheers, pride written all over her face, and Mina can’t help but tug her straight into a hug, choked up a bit as she clutches Dahyun closely. 

“Thank you so much, for everything,” Mina whispers in a tearful voice. “I couldn’t have done it without you.” 

“It was all you, Minari,” Dahyun tells her. “You were incredible.” 

“So were you,” Mina pulls back a little, breath catching at how close she and Dahyun are, realizing now how deeply her feelings go for this girl in front of her, how she’s not only fallen in love with Dahyun’s music but Dahyun herself. “You’re perfect,” Mina murmurs, knowing Dahyun sees how her gaze falls to the pianist’s lips. 

Without hesitation, Dahyun leans up and kisses Mina on the lips, tender and perfect and so much better than Mina ever could’ve imagined. She thought the best sort of connection was through dance and music, but this is so much more intense, everything melting away around them as Mina cups Dahyun’s cheek and smiles into the kiss, both of them giggling against each other’s lips. 

“I was just so happy I had to kiss you,” Dahyun whispers teasingly, making Mina remember how she’d said that to Dahyun when she first got the role. 

“How do I make you happy enough for you to do it again?” Mina jokes, making Dahyun laugh so sweetly and then pull her in for another dizzying kiss.

**Author's Note:**

> @bbygirldahyun on tumblr and @bbygiridahyun on twitter <3


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